An almost perfect dream
by darkmoore05
Summary: Dean deals with the aftermath of 2.20  what is and what should never be   Angst, DeanSam preslash implied


**A/N: **This is my first Supernatural fic. It was written for a prompt table on LJ. Thanks go to Cassandra (capierson on LJ) and Maya (mayalaen on LJ) for beta work.

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053 - pain  
**Author:** darkmoore05  
**Title:** An almost perfect dream  
**Fandom:** Supernatural  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word count:** 1473  
**Warnings:** angst, pre-slash, Spoilers for 2.20-What is and what should never be  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. I just want to play with them.

Getting drunk hadn't been the smartest idea in the world. Dean felt worse than before even though at first the alcohol had helped. It had numbed the pain that burned so fiercely in his chest ever since he had returned from the Djinn's dream world. But now, in this state between drunk and sober, the agony intensified. He just couldn't get this picture of his mother out of his mind; standing there in front of him, smiling, and so very much alive.

"It wasn't real," Dean told himself aloud for yet another time while walking back to the hotel room Sammy and he were staying at. He needed to remember that, if had he given in, Sam would have been left alone and unprotected in the real world while Dean, would have slowly died. Dean reached their room, but hesitated just in front of the door. He really shouldn't go in there yet. Sam would only ask if he was all right – again. And, given his state, Dean wasn't so sure he could lie to his brother this time. Because, truth be told, he was everything _but_ fine.

Yes, he had told Sammy that he had wanted to stay, had wanted to stay so badly. But that wasn't even anywhere near the feelings that were really troubling him. Of course he had wanted to stay in this world where their mother was still alive. Sam was starting a life with Jess and he for once had a _normal_ home and a _normal_ childhood with a perfectly _normal_ life ahead of him. There was just one problem – beside this being a fantasy – and that was Sam; his much-beloved, pain-in-the-ass little brother and this very special bond between them.

His thoughts wandered back to his time in the Djinn's world again. To the moment where he had almost given in right before he had stabbed himself to wake up. The voice of his mother, so gentle and compassionate. _"It's better than anything you had,"_ she had said, but that wasn't true. Not really. Sam – his Sammy, the one he had protected and taken care of all his life, _he_ was the single best thing in Dean's whole life. This connection between them was worth more than anything else he could imagine. So he'd tried to tell her that he couldn't give in. Dying just wasn't an option. Those few days in this fantasy world would never be enough – not if it meant Sam would be alone in the real world anyway.

Then she spoke again, _"In here with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime. I promise. No more pain. No fear. Just love, comfort and safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest."_

Dean's throat constricted painfully at this mental image. The promise it held. The promise of a loving family. The chance to make friends with his brother in this reality. The opportunity to experience a life he hadn't even known he'd longed for so bad until now. This nearly perfect little fantasy. They were good. They were very good. He had to admit that. Pushing all the right buttons. So, what the fake Jess said next very nearly did him in. Her words cut right to the core of his heart._"You won't have to worry about Sam any more. You get to watch him live a full life."_

The one thing he knew Sam had always wanted – a life with Jess by his side, children, safety, and love, a life without hunting – being _normal_ . Sam longed for that so badly. And, if it had been in Dean's power to give it to him, to make his wish come true, he'd have done it in a heartbeat. Dean didn't care if people died because of it. He didn't care that it would break his own heart if Sam were to leave him again. He'd let Sam go to live this white-picket-fence life he craved so much. Dean would sacrifice everything to ensure Sam's happiness.

But this wasn't Dean's Sam. _His_ Sam was out there in the _real_ world, alone and unprotected. Vulnerable. Hurting from too many losses in too short a time. He was the one that mattered to Dean. He alone. And, if it meant giving up this dream, this illusion of an almost-perfect life, then so be it. Dean would do it. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his brother. He had killed for Sammy and, if necessary, he'd die for him, too. This time he needed to live for him. In the real world.

That had meant giving up the dream world the Djinn had created. It had been hard, but Dean knew that Sam would be waiting for him on the other side. And seeing _his_ Sam again, being able to protect him, had been worth the pain of leaving his dream behind.

His thoughts slowly returned to the present. Dean hesitantly reached for the door handle. He wasn't any more sober then just a few minutes ago, but standing around in front of their motel room for too long wasn't a smart idea, either. So he reluctantly opened the door and stepped into the room.

Sammy was sitting at the table working on his laptop, but he looked up when Dean walked in. A worried look instantly appeared on his face. "Dean, what happened? Are you all right? You look like crap." He got up, clearly intending to support his brother.

"Aw, come on, give me a break, dude," Dean said, holding up his hands so Sammy wouldn't touch him. He didn't think he'd survive that – not as drunk and emotionally unstable as he was at the moment. Dean had no luck, though. It was obvious that Sam was determined to talk this through, and Dean wasn't in any condition to argue with him.

"Dean, I'm serious. Talk to me, man. Tell me what's wrong with you. I'm worried about you. I know you're still hurting from that Djinn messing with your head, but…" Sam broke off, searching for words. He looked frustrated and hurt and Dean cursed himself for causing Sam pain. He was supposed to protect him, not make him miserable. How important his good relationship with Sammy was, how much it really meant to him was something Dean had only realized fully after his trip into the Djinn world.

"Listen, Sammy, I'm sorry, all right? I know I should've talked about this earlier, but you know that I'm not one for chick-flick moments. I just… I'm not good with this." If Dean had been sober, he would most probably not even have admitted that, but the combination of alcohol and physical and emotional exhaustion was taking its toll.

"I know, Dean." Sam was grabbing Dean by the shoulders and guiding him to sit down on the bed. The fact that Dean didn't resist spoke volumes about the older Winchester's emotional state. "I'm just worried about you. It's not good for you to dwell on what this Djinn showed you, Dean. I know it was your perfect dream world, but…"

"No, it wasn't," Dean disagreed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "It was good, yes. It was good to see mom again and see you have the life you always wanted, but… a life where we barely talked to each other… that could never be my perfect world. So, no, it wasn't _perfect,_ but it would have been good enough for me if you had been happy. Problem was, that wasn't really you. You were here in the real world. If it hadn't been for you being out here alone, I wouldn't have come back. I was sick and tired of sacrificing so much. Pretty selfish, huh?" Dean's voice broke, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

The bed dipped and a moment later Dean felt his brother's arms come around him, comforting him. "No, Dean, not selfish. Just human," Sam assured. "I'm glad you had the strength to get yourself out of there, though. Wouldn't know what I'd do without you, bro."

Dean huffed. "Aw, come on, Sammy. What did I tell you about chick-flick moments? Quit it, okay? I'm alive. No damage done. We can go on now. After all, we still have this yellow-eyed son of a bitch to hunt."

Sam let go, putting some physical distance between them. He patted Dean's back awkwardly before getting up from the bed altogether. "Sure, Dean. Whatever you say." He sounded tired and a bit resigned, and Dean knew he had hurt him again with putting up his protective shields. But it was better than the alternative. Because there was another thing Dean had learned from his time in the Djinn's world. He was in love with his brother. But, if he didn't want for Sam to leave again, then Sam could never know.

The End.


End file.
